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Josef Nowak: Rhine meadow camp of Rheinberg

Chapter 8: Cave Dwellers

Caves in the sandy soil are often collapsing - prisoners of war are often buried then -- cutting wood with tin plate of tins -- pains and nightmares -- criminal allied are brilliant with torture and with shooting like NS justice did -- torture with prohibition of mail and visits worse than in NS jails -- rankings

from: Josef Nowak: Seeded on the field. War prisoner in the home land.
(German: Mensch auf den Acker gesät. Kriegsgefangen in der Heimat)

translated by Michael Palomino (2013)
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[Constructing caves with tins in the sandy ground - many caves become graves]

The soldiers of WWI and WWII learnt to install oneself in the earth by digging. This capacity was also applied in Rheinberg now. We neither had no hoe nor spade nor shovel. There were no tools but tins or pieces of wood before being burnt. We were digging like moles. When there were moles then we forced them for an imperative admiration because we were the much more worse diggers. We did not only dig holes, but we were digging real caves and tunnels.

Many were digging their own grave. The ground was very sandy and had not much stability. I had worked in a coal mine before and I knew about the dangers of this labyrinth of caves. Always again and again these caves in the sandy earth were collapsing. Some people had the tap of the coffin over his head and did not know about it. When the collapse came in the night then the cave dwellers were buried without any Lord's Prayer. And this was nor seldom in the beginning. Should one dig out the dead presenting the body to the Americans at the entrance gate? This happened mostly. Then the body was taken away and buried. It was not known where.

[Bodies from the Rhine meadow camps were taken by the lorries which went to the port of Antwerp in Belgium. On the way the bodies were put into mass graves in the forest, or the bodies were driven around in whole Germany to the concentration camps being presented as Jewish bodies inventing a mass murder of millions of Jews. This was the tactic of Zionist mass murderer Eisenhower fulfilling the order of the Zionists Baruch and Morgenthau - making war and destructing the fame of Germany also after the war without end - is a taboo until today (2013)].

[No administration, no numbers of prisoners]

Rheinberg had no administration. We were [p.77] cheated of the explicit right of prisoner during the whole 16 weeks for having a number. They simply did not take any notice of us. Even in Hitler's concentration camps the human being was rated higher yet. The prisoner was an individual yet, but one which had to die at the end. [This is not right because German cc were under control of the Red Cross AND of the Zionists, and the Hitchcock films are a fake, there did not die many Jewish prisoners, may be in subordinate camps]. We here were only a mass like a puree and the death was cutting pieces of it. From time to time new gray group was coming in passing the gates. It was going on like in a scrap heap which was broadened or reduced according to the needs of the administration fulfilling it's quotas sending bodies to the ovens thus they would be melt, cleaned and changing their form.

[Cutting trees and telephone poles - fires for potatoes - German inventive mind]

But these nameless people were doing good deeds yet. Amid in the camp of Rheinberg there had been some farms with barns and adjoining buildings, and there were some trees and telephone poles. Two nights were enough time to eliminate them completely. Any piece of wood, any piece of metal had been broken out. With what? With the finger nails? With kicks? With the sheet of the tins? It will be an enigma forever for me. And how they had cut the trees and the telephone poles? How they had worked the trunks into firewood? There was no saw, there was no axe, nothing. There had been only some tinplate - - -

In the night it was really cold. Sometimes a merciful farmer was throwing us a little sack of potatoes [p.78] over the fence. We were throwing the sacks back ballasted with some bricks. The potatoes were eaten raw when it had to be, but cooked they were much better. Therefore firewood was a wanted article. It was produced with a good precision as if it had been possible to rush the trees. In those times it was told that an American officer had said to one of our translators that the Germans would be a dreadful people. One only had to send some guys of them with a piece of sheet metal to a forest and after some time they would return with machine guns.

[Hardly any sleep by pains - talks about bad nightmares from the war never passing by]

In the night we had a light sleep. Longer than one hour the backaches could not be supported. There was the feeling as if the spine had broken, as if there had been iron poles pushed to the shoulders and hips. Muscles, tendons and nerves were working only slowly and painfully. Any turn of the body on the hard earth was a torture. As all in a hole were moaning at the same time in the hole, they were turning together like following a command. When we did not sleep so rapidly, also a talk could begin. And one of my comrades from my battery was provoking a bad dream with it makes me thinking until today yet and is not stopping moving my subconsciousness.

Our battery [on the flak tower in Bemerode] had consisted of two units - as it was normal then, one battery of the air force, and another battery of the State Labor Service (Reichsarbeitsdienst, RAD) [p.79]. On the last Sunday of our stay in Bemerode, a few days before blasting our guns into the air, the men from the RAD Labor Service were bringing two English prisoners of war. They were working in agriculture since a longer time already and only had made a little Sunday walk. Now they had been "taken prisoner" again. The chief of the RAD battery, a field master (Oberstfeldmeister), had taken the resolution to "kill" them. Our lieutenant was contradicting in vain. The field master had better connections to the party and knew better what should be done. According to the kind of lansquenet he gave the last cigarette to the two Englishman before shooting them into the neck.

I had not heard anything of it. But now a petty officer of my battery had to tell me this. I was thinking about this event during many hours proving my conscience. Was it not a duty to reveal this coward scoundrel and coldblooded murderer to the allies for being hanged? Not now of course, but later when I had left Rheinberg. Wasn't there the necessity to have a clear line what is a duty and what was a crime? But then I got another news. My sorrow was superfluous. The field master fell into the hands of the British without any help of mine. They had made him sing out. But in my dream I am again and again the prisoner being without any exit possibility feeling the pistol in the neck already [p.80].

[Criminal allies: torture, killings by shooting, care of souls rejected... - example with a pastor of Wolfenbüttel]

Is it a consolation to know that also in other nations creatures can be found having a black soul like any Gestapo chief has? In those days - this told me a pastor from Wolfenbüttel - the execution machine was not stopping in the penal workhouse there. Under the British administration this execution machine was working not so fast, was working slower, but was working. Only that the executed now were of the class which had been the governing class in the Third Reich. A German police lieutenant had shot two British pilots, may be following an order of Himmler, he had murdered them, this is the better word. Therefore he was condemned to death. Then he pleaded the pastor of Wolfenbüttel to say to the British officer that he, the condemned now, would consider the penalty as a justified expiation for that what he had committed. This offer of repenting was not accepted. The fusillade of the death squad was not hitting the heart but the belly of the condemned. When he was flouncing during the dying process the pastor wanted to knee aside of him to relieve the last minutes of his life giving him the last rites according to his church. But now the British officer was shouting the pastor back with a sharp command. He was refusing him the care of soul to the dying person. The representative of the Empire was determining if a person could get the last rites or not.

Megalomania of the occupation forces is mostly the same without big differences. In the Third Reich the pastor [p.81] of Harzburg-Bündheim - only mentioning one her - only had been taken to Dachau and had died there because he had given the last rites to a Polish woman of his church.

I myself had been elected one time being a member of a death squad. A deserter should be executed. I was fighting like a wild man against my honor being ordered to shoot a poor sinner. When all my pleas had no results I was declaring to my boss that I would enroll myself to the front by my own will. Now the commander could not withstand this offer. I was B4 at a commando device, I had to indicate the course of the bomber air planes, a work which had to be done with a light hand and with an almost intuitive foreknowledge. Not even general Von Unruh, with nickname "Heldenklau", could get the knowledge of the specialists. He had to leave them in calm. Additionally the chief had lost his translator for the Italians. Perhaps he was thinking which insuperable difficulty would come up when he would take the translator from the Italian staff who was adored as their father or mother, these poor guys who were brought by Mussolini to Hitler under wrong pretexts.


[Example of Nazi justice with wrong denunciations and verdicts without a hearing of the accused person - Nowak becomes a "dottore"]

Only a short time ago there had been a bad event. The Austrian cleaner of the chief had denounced an Italian from Sicily, a hot blooded but valiant and brave man, but he was lying much. As I was absent [p.82] in this moment, Zerillo was condemned to a sharp detention of eight days. When I came back I had to give him this order from the court. And then the Sicilian had a fury attack.

-- Porca miseria [What a disgrace], the furious Sicilian was shouting. Dio cane! [God is a dog].

He was throwing his cap to the ground, also his stick, then he was running around us like a motor bike driver in the curves, he was trampling on his cap, and he was cursing very much the wildest curses with foam on the mouth.

The chief remained without any word. Finally he pleaded to me to ask what was the significance of all this. Now it came out rapidly that the German [denouncing the Sicilian] had lied. What should be done? The verdict could be controlled only by the department commander. When he saw that the chief had condemned the Italian without a hearing -

I took Zerillo on his arm and explained him that the chief had been mislead. He was just a barbarian without an education in justice. I asked [the Sicilian] if he would be content for being condemned but not with prison but only waiting passing his undeserving penalty? Zerillo could agree. And all was in order.

-- Bravo, dottore, all Italians were shouting now.

-- How you let call yourself by them? the chief was asking me disgusted.

-- They always say "Mr. Doctor" to me.

-- Then make them clear that this is prohibited [p.83]. We are here in a battery and not in a university.

-- From today on you have to call me "Mr. lance corporal". All clear?

-- Si, dottore, the Italians shouted. The chief was giving his fight up and disappeared in his barrack. We only could see him during the next air attack. No, he could not resign on my service. Therefore I did not have to shoot against any human. Only sergeant major ("Spiess") was not satisfied. He had Prussian tradition in his bones yet. In his eyes I was nothing more than a person having committed high treason. One could see this in his face. If we would loose the war one day then he would take revenge and a big part of this revenge would be against me.

[Criminal "Americans": torture without end without mail and visits prohibited]

In Rheinberg we were cut from anything from the outer world. There was no mail. We could not send anything. This was obviously one of the new qualities of life of the war. Only at the end of the detention it was possible for those who had heard somehow where we were living to give us a sign. But there was never an answer from our side. they had to write with all enthusiasm without being safe that their news will reach us. They had to feel in their heart that we were not buried yet.

No other person was allowed to see the camp. When I was thinking about the actions I had performed in the Third Reich -

[Remembering illegal visits in an NS penal workhouse in the town of Brandenburg - the "fat pastor" with food in the pockets - release of pastor Schubert with bribe and prohibition of work]

Dr. Seelmeyer was a vicar general. He had been [p.84] condemned without any guilt for being in the penal workhouse in Brandenburg Görden District. This was a castle. There were ditches in concrete and bloody dogs were circulating there in the night and there were towers with machine guns. A bridge lead to the main gate. Behind this gate was the main counter watch station. On all corridors, in all yards were armed people. But I could come in. Together with pastor Schubert of Brandenburg I was entering this site of law and injustice. The pastor was a little bit chunky, and as it seemed to me he was a well stuffed person. We Together we went to the chapel first where welcome by the sacristan who was doing his service for life. He was opening the tabernacle [location for the hosts] and was filling it up with the big brief case of the pastor with chewing tobacco, snuff tobacco, cigarettes, little medicaments thus it was almost overflowing. Christ the benevolent, the friend of the sinners, will have forgiven to his little servant that he was transforming the holy tent into a deposit for mercies.

Making our tour in the prison we came also to the kitchen. There were twelve cooks at least with white baker's boy caps. Now the pastor disappeared in a wild movement of white aprons and when he was coming back he had obviously lost much weight. As he was not allowed to give something to the captives he was permitting them to take all he had in his pockets. Of course also the staff of the penal workhouse was not blind. Also they knew the fat pastor coming in [p.85] and the meager one coming back leaving the home. But they did not say anything. Mostly they were only reluctant servants of the dictator. And after having heard so many bad things about them it's time to praise their humanity.

At the end of our tour the pastor was pushing us into a room. This was the room of the teacher who was also a member of the resistance group complot. I was sitting alone now. It had been a lie when I would state that I had felt comfortable in my skin. Suddenly a door opened. A little man in striped clothes was pushed into the room. He was looking at me, swallowing, crying. What should one do now? I open my brief case.

-- First we want to drink a coffee, Mr. vicar general.

My freight was buns, sausage, ham, butter, a box of cigarettes, a thermos bottle with coffee. We were having a large breakfast. Then smoking a cigarette we were talking about the project giving free the way to freedom. A honor has to be given to the unknown Dutchmen who gave the money. It were 6,000 or 8,000 guilders? I don' know it any more. They were given to Himmler's cash point. Then Dr. Seelmeyer was free under the condition that he would resign to any retrial and that he would not work in his profession any more giving up his function. 6,000 guilders - this was not so much. For the art works of "degenerated art" which had been taken from the museums in Germany Goebbels got much more money in Switzerland. But [p.86] here the question was only about a person without guilt. Now he was spared to suffer three years in the penal workhouse.

[The following case had not such a happy end]:

[Pastor Schubert playing the "mailman" and being brought to the cc Sachsenhausen - suicide in 1937]

Pastor Schubert of Brandenburg had to prove soon - according to the words of the Bible - that nobody had a bigger love than he had giving his life for his friends. There were also Belgian and French religious priests. The priest was clandestinely transporting mail home. Who knows from whom he had been denounced. There hardly can meet five or six persons without a Judas in the group. Pastor Schubert came to the concentration camp of Sachsenhausen. On the Ascension Day - I believe it was in 1937 - he was hanging himself. This was at least reported by the Secret State's Police [Gestapo]. And they did not forget to add that the diligent priest had prayed a complete breviary before. The body was brought to Brandenburg for the burial. The coffin could be opened for a wile by the familiars. But it was forbidden to get near to him - - -

I had visited the vicar general in the penal workhouse, had even brought him a breakfast. For pastor Schubert I could not do anything. It was impossible to visit him. he was in a penal system as we get to know it in Rheinberg now.

[NS penal workhouse was more human than the criminal "Americans" with their soulless machine guns]

In Brandenburg Görden District the cells had linoleum and running water. Who wants to deny that one had the penal workhouses [p.87] of the Third Reich were a better home than these concentration camps of the Stupid States? Here were no officials bewaring secretly the last remaining part of humanity. Here were only operatives of a well drilled administration working without any sense but with a hammer mill.

[The hierarchy of the captives in the NS penal work house in the town of Brandenburg - and in the NS state]

In Brandenburg Görden District even a ranking system had existed. The detainees themselves had created this. Social upper class were the political criminals, middle class were the normal criminals, and the lower class were the culprits with sexual delicts. Even violent criminals felt broken in their social honor when they were together in a cell with a culprit who had committed a sexual delict. "I am a decent person" the thief was saying, the cheater, even the murderer. They were protesting until having freed from the presence of the culprit having committed a sexual delict. In Brandenburg there was even an acknowledged aristocracy. Members were the vicar general Dr. Seelmeyer. When he was making a walk, then the detainees were greeting him leaving their caps from their heads shouting in a chorus:

-- Good morning Mr. Vicar General!

This was the daily demonstration. They had more feeling for property and justice than justice itself sending the innocent man there [p.88].

Additionally it has to be mentioned that the state had another ranking. The upper class with him were the violent criminals, the middle class were the people with a sexual delict, and the lower class were the political enemies. With this ranking the mighties were demasking themselves. Not only because of this ranking they had collapsed then.

[The ranking of the captives in Rheinberg: all are the same - a former district leader]

In Rheinberg there was no ranking and there was no difference. There were only members of one nation thus all were considered to be criminals. Who was member of it was appointed by this. From this situation to have a Jewish star was no step any more. The winners had done this step already. There were enough men with us who had been representatives of administration of the Third Reich and had to settle old scores yet. They were sitting now with their local leaders, district leaders, office leaders and office executers of all sort in this same landscape of caves. They had the same hunger, they were standing in the same rain, the had the same pains. But it was arranged in an intelligent way. The last salvation of the weak has always been the stupidity of the strong ones.

For example my fate had given me to a former district leader sharing the common dirty hole. Perhaps under other circumstances I had to resist to the temptation being a member of a special court against him. Rheinberg made us friends for life. When I was going home and he was kept in the camp because of political reasons yet [p.89] I was considering already what I could do for him for shortening his captivity. Perhaps the camps in Rheinberg, in Remagen, in Wickrath were the big retorts where a population had come to the ground and was forming itself in a new manner coming out from guilt and horror coming up again from the margin of doom [p.90].

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